who believes in promises? aren’t they meant to be broken?
If they are meant to be broken, why make them?
I don’t make mine, it escapes through my weak and feeble lips
Any time it leaves my glottis, My heart skips and beeps
Like a time bomb that doesn’t know what kind of damage it will cause
But pause. I only feel a greater remorse when someone is hurt
“A greater” i say, it begins every time my mouth opens.
That overwhelming sadness that burns my heart; ovens
It won’t go until I stop making them, it won’t go, it wont go
Ye mouth!! Open and say something you can do and do it so.